Hi Erik. If you open up the save file I have uploaded and look to the galactic southeast you can see and empire in blue called the Kuan Major Ascendancy which is under attack from a silver mist. Once destroyed the game errors out. I am uploading the save file under CrispMPScrashsave.dwg to the FTP. Thanks for your help!

@Martioniza that's exactly what I thought. This is what happens when you just "leave stuff alone"...the universe divides by zero.

As for the general announcement I have for everyone. I am cautiously declaring victory over this bug. I will continue to have to baby sit that planet between sessions to make sure nothing is trying to eat them. I may have to go to extraordinary lengths within the lore of the universe to protect that planet. BUT, I will be able to continue the LP in its original form. Hopefully our good friends at matrix games and code force can help out with the support ticket I put in and maybe get rid of those pesky Kuan Major Ascendancy's's. On to episode 1! wait...what?

“...in conclusion it is our opinion that this new race would not be willing to join as a new colony willingly”, the Science officer paused, “They are, after all, in the midst of what could only be called a civil war” Commander Nemoy gazed across the ready room table in abject boredom. “Do you have anything else for me?” “N-no sir”, the junior science officer looked uneasy. “Good, submit your report directly to EC command and next time don't take so damn long to-” Nemoy's voice was cut off by the sound of the general quarters alarm. Both men rushed to the CIC. “Report damn you!” his Scottish accent breaking through. Lt Gee spun from his position at the senor bank. “Sir we have a large unknown warship coming from behind the planets horizon.” Nemoy's jaw hung agape at the sight of the warship. It was almost twice as long as their own and the hull of the monster made it look three times as large. The bridge was silent as this was the first time Nemoy had ever shown any sort of emotion in a dangerous situation. “Spin up the FTL drives, now!” A petty officer manning one of the sensor consoles spoke up above the cacophony of the general quarters alarm. “Sir, the ship does not seem to be powered at the moment. I see no activity or signs of any known life aboard.” Nemoy eyed his prize. EDF command had lent captains of exploration ships a free hand when it came to operations of the ship. Commandeering this ship and commanding it himself was a viable option. Nemoy smiled, he might make admiral yet.

1358UST 10.11.2764 Horecori Prime

The CIC's speakers cracked and buzzed from the high energy interference from the shattered burning remains of the colonyship. Over the whole net voices could be heard screaming and pleading for help only to be suddenly snuffed out in a whine of static. There is nothing the commander of the Eva could do. Horecori prime had become a graveyard for thirty-million colonists most of who were looking to start a new life after the disaster at Yellowstone. The attacking ship had been completely destroyed by the over zealous gunners in the security force, nothing was left to identify the attackers. Already our old enemies the Haakonish were being implicated. In later months what would be called the Massacre at Horeconi Prime would be the rallying cry of ever growing xenophobic groups who called for the consolidation of the colonies into a new government.

0812UST 06.02.2766 Tabula Rasa

Colony Director Jacob Foster was the first colonist to step onto the grassy plain of Tabula Rasa as is custom now for new colonies. The star shone brightly from the hills to the east and all manner of incest and fowl chirped in the distance. Behind him the first engineers would be going about their business placing the pre-fabricated layouts for new buildings and municipal structures. Some of the colonists, including Foster, were escaping the horrible Dekara plague that ravaged the northern colonies two years prior. Foster bent down and scooped up a handful of dirt and let it fall. “Tabula Rasa. A Blank slate”, he spoke to no one in particular.

1135UST Earth – Geneva - Colonial Senate Chambers – Ten days after the Declaration of Confederation was signed

“We have convened here to discuss the state of the confederation. Economic, political, and military advisers will all have their say doing this conference.” The Consul, Jessica Coghlan, shifted as she strained to look around the domed chamber which seated the senators of the planets within the confederation. As this meeting was not public, no members of the press were allowed in. “I would like to welcome the representatives of Llipa, the newest colony in the confederation” Coghlan waited for the applause to subside. A holograph flashed into existence at eye level for the audience in the center of the room. It showed a map of the Colonial Confederation. “Here we can see the Confederation as it is.”

Another infographic popped into existence displaying the economy and demographics of the colonies,

The map shifted to the galactic south showing two systems ringed in gold.

“These two systems are slated for colonization within the next two years. It is the policy of our government to contain the Kaiden or at least out colonize them to the south. No direct confrontation is expected though.”

Coghlan paused to let the last statement sink in.

“On the diplomatic front we have seen little change with the Kaiden and continue a distant but very cordial relationship.”

The holograph shifted to the galactic west showing the Umwatt system.

“A colony ship is already on the way to the Umwatt system to secure what is now known as the Umwatt pass. A build up of forces has been recommended here. What I am about to tell you next does not leave this chamber.” Coghlan collected herself. “Recent findings in the ruins of the Umwatt system indicate that, not only was the race that inhabited that system an advanced space-faring race, but they were also destroyed by a unknown force to the west of that pass.”

Murmurs filled the chamber as Senators discussed the implication of such a finding.

“Please, please, I will now yield the floor to Grand Admiral Mabena”

Mabena rose from his seat at the floor of the chamber and made his way to the speakers platform. He straightened his white uniform before he spoke, his voice lightly accented by his native Ethiopian language, Amharic.

“Senators if I can direct your attention back to the screen.” The map shifted to a star named Viladeni in colonial space ringed in red. “This is one of the last known strongholds of Haakonish in Colonial space.”

The map zoomed into the second planet of the system as statistics populated themselves to the side of the rotating globe.

“Viladeni 2 hosts a population of nearly eight billion Haakonish on a planet in comparable size of our own. Much like the last two Haakonish worlds we have carried out operations against this one is also a Marshy planet.”

“In accordance to the wishes of this governing body and the results of the vote held two days ago I will be mobilizing Colonial Task Force Three to blockade and neutralize the planet.” The chamber erupted in murmurs again as the consul banged the gavel to order. The vote was passed by a narrow margin of sixty-four senatorial votes against sixteen. “This operation will bring justice to those beings that carried out a cowardly attack on our colony ship four years ago which cost the lives of over thirty million colonists.” The holographic moved to the galactic northwest where two stars were also circled in red.

“According to our research in the Umwatt system and surveys of these two systems the CDF (Colonial Defense Force) has come to the conclusion that these two systems harbor the last remaining planets of the aggressive empire that annihilated the Umwattian civilization over ten millennia ago. Recent surveys suggest that the inhabitants of these worlds are locked in bitter civil wars between two or more factions. It is the high commands opinion that we cannot let these worlds unite under one banner ever again. The finding of the Anseun battle cruiser in the Anseun system underlines this fact. This one ship would have the ability to destroy half the colonial fleet before being neutralized. “

The chamber was dead silent.

“I recommended the immediate mobilization of the Colonial military to dispose of this clear and present threat to our survival.”

The chamber now erupted in arguments amongst the different senators. Many believe that the operations against the Haakonish were unjust citing their peaceful nature under occupation. Some have even gone as far to cite recently discovered Haakonish literature which discuss their long heritage as a galactic power. The Counsel banged the gavel again bringing silence to the room.

“We will hold a vote immediately.”, she stated over the dying voices.

The measure passed with a margin of seventy-eight to two. A new four year compulsory service law was put in place to match the needs of the Colonial Army, Marines, and Navy. It felt as if this new confederation were going to war.

Do you think that powerful alien ship you found will be able to defeat the Silvermist?

Oh and if you assign scientists to research stations are they bound to those research stations or can you move them around?

Because I was thinking that since the Haakonish seem to be an aggressive race it would be more suitable if we sent the Haakonish scientist to the weapons research station and the human to the energy one.

@Martionize From what I understand you can move scientists around but it does take some time. I usually base a scientist somewhere and just leave them unless they are under attack or under threat of attack.

As far as the Silvermist to the south, I'm going to let it do its thing as there is no justification on sending a task force to destroy it when it is not a current threat to the Confederation. The Silvermist in question is not the same one causing trouble for the game. That one was on the other side of the galaxy and it was destroyed by a giant inter dimensional eraser with a thirst for nano machines.

I would not describe the Haakonish as an aggressive race. Remember, originally they are used as scapegoats when pirate attacks took place early in the timeline of the Global Union due to their standoffish nature and the fact that they are not human. Under occupation there were little to no resistance movements, they more or less accepted their fate and chose to integrate but remain standoffish. The best analogy would be the Native Peoples of the subcontinent or America during the early colonization. Some Haakonish resist, some collaborate, but most go about their business as they do not have the ability to fight back. Our neighbors to the west however...

The lights in the bunker shone blue over the survivors huddled in the recesses of the concrete shelter. Above them the world sounded like it was being torn apart and the room shook as buildings fell above. Tony looked around the now dimly lit room to see over a hundred people starting intently at the door behind him, too terrified to make a sound. He was the last person to scramble into the bunker door, his wife having fell behind when she was consumed by the mist. When he looked back at her from the last the sight was to ghastly to bear. Skin was torn from muscle and limbs vanished while she was still moving to the safety of the bunker. No one deserved to die like that. There was a sudden silence outside that made his ears ring. The ringing slowly became louder and louder as seconds slipped by. Tony first knew something was wrong when his skin began to itch around his eyes and ears. His hearing failed the same moment the bunker turned red. A pain began shooting over his body that was impossible to describe at the same moment he noticed a thin smoke coming from the air ducts. The last thing he ever saw was the other victims falling apart before him in voiceless screams.

0625UST 29.7.2768 XC922 MSS – Sector K5

“Sir, the task force has surrounded the NMA (Nano-Machine Anomaly) and is already to engage. All fighters have cleared the bays” Vice Admiral Vasiliev stood like a statue in the Anseun's makeshift CIC. Real-time and tactical displays danced in the center of the dark room, there was no ferroglass in which to gaze upon the melee itself. “Tactical, focus on the mist itself”, Vasiliev drew deep on his wooden pipe. Around him enlisted technicians, all experts in xenotechnology, rerouted power and toggled mazes of switches. Most of the controls of the ship were analogued to more familiar hardware as the alien technology was impossible to use without multiple limbs or a central nervous system which you could plug in. The Silver Mist, as it was called by the last reports from the doomed colony at Terra Nova, was a constantly shimmering cloud that was now lurching toward the CSS Swift. Research on those nano machines that were recovered suggested that, although numerous, the cloud could be effectively destroyed by using area target weapons such as Flak shells from the Maxos blasters and point defense weapons. There was a hierarchy to the nano-machines that meant there was a central control machine for every 100,000 bots. If the controller was hit all of the subsidiary machines would be taken offline. The trick is putting enough ordinance downrange to destroy the controllers. The CSS Swift opened fire as the cloud descended upon it, the Flak rounds from the blasters creating massive holes in the cloud from the clustered sub-munitions that were quickly filled in by the rest of the swarm. The four fighter/bombers for Avenger wing, the first active fighter wing in the Colonial Navy, closed on the rear of the cloud launching fragmentation missiles and firing HE-FRAG rounds from their forward mounted cannons. The fighter flipped around in uniform fashion to deliver more ordinance, deftly avoiding the clouds reach as they finished their attack runs. The mist rolled over the CSS Swift like an avalanche, the shields flaring as hundreds of thousands of nano-machines kamikazed to allow others to reach the hull. As soon as the mist made its pass it was clear that the Swift had taken significant damage. “Hail the Swift, I want Captain Hall to give me a damage report.” Vasiliev said, still focused on the CIC. “Sir, the bridge of the Swift has been destroyed. Captain Hall has not yet reported to the Secondary CIC. Lt. Commander Pike is now in command. ETA 37 seconds until jump.” “Relay to the ships of the task force, keep your distance from the mist, concentrate all fire on the center at all times. How long until the Daedlus cannons are in range?” The tactical officer had a eager gleam in his eyes, “40 seconds at this speed sir, the weapon is charged and ready to fire.” As the mist made another pass on the Swift the entire starboard wing of the taskforce opened fire. Fire several seconds the resulting explosions made it seem as both the mist and the Swift were atomized. The mist finished it's run on the Swift a shadow of its former self and soon after the Swift jumped safely away. “Daedlus charge at critical mass.” The tactical officer yelled over his shoulder. “Do it” The heat from the cannons discharge could be felt through the hull. A thick beam of red and orange energy lashed through the mist and scorched the shields of every ship in the starboard wing of the task force. A second blast from the Daedlus nearly put Vasiliev on his behind. The mist was a ragged shadow against the light of the systems parent star when the final blast vaporized the last of the nano-machines.

Inter Solar News Brief 0725UST 04.10.2769 -Earth

-...in other news, two transports carrying Boskara and Gizurean workers bound for Io came under attack from the terrorist and pirate group known as Prometheus. Several high explosive charges detonated simultaneously in the passenger compartments of the Solar Endeavor and Eve Ranger killing 1271 workers and wounding several others. Eagle security forces found traces of military grade explosives in the investigation, explosives which should have been easily detectable. Suggestions of the possibility of accomplices inside the security forces were denied by both ESF and CSF representatives. Primi Homines, the far-right political party which earlier this year endorsed Prometheus as a valuable activist group, was quick to condem the violent acts. A statement released by the group lawyer “Regretted the attack on private property” and “the wounding of several valuable human crew members.” “In other news, new images from the Urd Pardrun debris field show that...”

Mission: Remove the threat of Boskara incursions into Confederation space and bring peace to the Boskarian worlds which were in a state of perpetual civil war. Secure space lanes to the target systems and begin buildup of military installations to combat the perceived threat to the galactic west.

Intelligence: Information gathered prior to the invasion of Anseun 1 and Wigu 1 from orbital recon showed that on every world, excluding Mureshen 1, the Boskara populace was in a state of civil war. Three separate powers were vying for control of their respective planets. Analysis showed that, within Boskarian culture, there was little distinguishing the civilian populations, male and female included, and that the conflicts had been going on for several millenia (Excluding Mureshen 1) . Evidence of wide use of weapons of mass destruction (most notably nuclear and chemical) was found on every planet. Despite the existence of two or more warring factions there was a surprising uniformity amongst the weapons of the Boskarians which gives weight to the suggestion that these Boskarians were once part of the Karack Maar Boskara. (Karack meaning Rule of or Controller, Maar standing for the House Maar of the Boskara) The debrief of the surviving Karmal's ( a Boskarian military command) found that the split happened many millenia prior during, what is known by the Boskar as, the Great Sundering War against the Umwatt civilization. Further analysis of this conflict is underway.

Enemy Forces: >800k Regular Boskarian Forces. >1M Civilian Volunteers. Mureshen 1 Defense Fleet. The Boskarians, unlike the Haakonish, did not have limits on the application of force and would use WMD to full effect on the landings at Anseun 1 and Wigu 1.

Execution: The first landings to place at Anseun 1 and Wigu 1. Both initial landings were nearly repelled by the boskarian use of tactical nuclear weapons on the landing sites. Further use of chemical weapons on follow on forces showed that the enemy would go to any length to preserve their sovereignty. After the nearly disastrous landing at LZ Quasar on Ansuen 1 commanders were given the authorization to release the chemical agent known as Pheropsophus-S (aka: P.S.). Pheropsophus-S was used to great effect against the Boskara due to it's resilience in high temperature environments and its corrosive properties when in contact with Boskarian exoskeletons. What were coined by the press as Rock and Shock missions, the use of High Explosive ordinance followed by P .S. release became a daily occurrence during the ground combat phase. Our quick victories on all the planets before Mureshen 1 can be attributed to the ongoing civil conflicts. Lessons learned from the first few months of the operation were applied to the invasions if Iclaff, Boskar 1, and Smole. Combat during these invasions were highlighted by the use of precision guided munitions, the introduction of the MK.III battle armor system, and the intense urban combat. Of all 32 vanguard brigades no single brigade left their AO without >70% WIA rate. During the Battle of Mureshan 1 our Colonial forces met with a Boskarian planet that was unified, the victor of the separation wars having been decided centuries earlier. A small defense fleet the orbited Mureshan 1 was quickly dispatched by elements of CTF-1 and CTF-2. The initial landings on Mureshan 1 were met with heavier than expected resistance. Heavy casualties were seen on the first few days of combat, several thousand of which were due to the Boskarian use of nuclear weapons. Within three days the whole of V Corps and the surviving elements of 3rd CMEF were contained in a defensive perimeter 500km in diameter around the hilly terrain known as the mount. Only the liberal use of HE/P.S., orbital, and drone based fire support kept the Mount from being overrun. After a week of intense fighting a second landing was made by I Corps behind enemy lines and quickly turned the tide. The following breakout and ensuing assault of major population centers caused more causalities amongst colonial ground forces. On 2771.02.08 what was left of the planets governing authority surrendered unconditionally after an operation by CSOC killed or incapacitated the entirety of Boskarian high command and staff. Investigations are underway concerning the reports of reprisals carried out by Colonial forces. At this time 427 individuals are under investigation for Crimes Against Sentient species.

Those Boskaran planets must be an awful place to live with all of that nuclear/chemical fallout and damage. Then again the planets were already volcanic.

It would be an awful place for humans to live. The Boskara have exoskeletons that keep most of the radiation and heat at bay. The Chemical weapons used by the Colonials dissipates rapidly so there is little clean up. It will, however, be a long long time before the planets will be hospitable to humans.

Knowns: The Boskara are a very aggressive multi-armed insectoid race that inhabit hot volcanic or desert worlds. Recent contact with the Karack Maar Boskara suggests that Boskarian culture has been built around the idea of expansion through conquest. Long range reconnaissance of Karack Maar worlds indicate that they possess a large fleet capable of extended operations in unfriendly space. Experience from Operation Black Shield shows that the Boskara possess incredible physical power in close combat situations and are very skilled in urban combat. This coupled with their unrestricted use of WMD make for a very dangerous situation to any frontier colonies. It is the recommendation of this committee that the Colonial Military take extra measures to defend our colonial holdings. At this time the Karack Maar Boskara are taking a stand-offish approach to dealings with us but have gone as far as making threats to exploration ships and dignitaries alike. It would be prudent to begin planning contingencies for armed conflict with the Boskara.

Attention: It is the recommendation of this committee that no mention of our actions in Operation Black Shield ever reach the Karack Maar. If this happens it could very well give a Casus Belli for the Karack Maar to reclaim their lost colonies on our western frontier.

Our research into the cause of the civil conflicts on all of the Boskara planets points back to the event known to the Boskara as The Great Sundering War against the Umwatt civilization. (The Umwatt’s were known to the Boskara as the Undesirables) records retrieved from the Boskarian worlds are incomplete or still in the process of be decrypted. Regardless of the causes of the conflict there was a point late in the war in which the Boskara were near victory when a dissenting faction broke away from Maar authority and began a costly civil war in their home worlds. At this point the Umwatts were able to gain an upper hand in the conflict and pushed the Boskara past the western approaches of our current western frontier. At this time the Boskara released what is only known as The Cleansing against the Umwatt and their allies. We believe this to be a biological or chemical agent which devastated the Umwatt civilization. Although the Boskara won the war against the Umwatt civilization all contact between the frontier worlds and the Karack Maar authority ceased. The effect this civil conflict has on the Karack Maar is unknown. (Addendum: reconnaissance from exploration ships and Star Fighter LRRP suggests the Karack Maar military vastly outstrips ours and civilian traffic is thriving. It is safe to assume the civil strife has been resolved.)

Unknowns: The relationship between the Karack Maar Boskara and the Umwatt’s. How and why the Karack Maar hold humans as subjects. The disposition and intent of the Karack Maar.

“...marks the third month in which transports have been targeted by remnants of the now much reduced Prometheus terror organization which only a year ago was almost completely dismantled by ISAP and CJA authorities over the course of two days. Officials from the Colonial Xeno-Internment/Re-patronization Command would not allow any media near the isolation zones of northern Anseun 1 citing the continuing unrest with the Boskaran populace there but sources inside the Colonial military state that conditions are worsting with food shortages rampant and almost daily attacks against garrison forces. The resettlement of Boskaran workers from the newly acquired worlds have sharply divided citizens across the Confederation.”

The image cuts to two middle aged men sitting at a upscale seaside diner, the info-graphic indicating their citizenship and Eden as their colony of residence, one of whom sporting the campaign ribbons of a retired Colonial Marine and an artificial eye that told of braver deeds. He spoke first.

“I have no problems with integrating with the Haakonish. Hell, I was in the first wave at Mytos Prime 2. The Boskara, on the other hand, are a naturally violent race and I fear of what may happen if we bring them to the core worlds. We already have them working in the Mercury mines, too close to home I think. We should remain segregated and keep them on their home planets where they belong.”

The other man broke in. “Its simply too dangerous, for them and us. Have you seen the images from Anseun? I don't believe we should have gotten involved in the first place. Why do my tax credits have to go towards a race that has been hell bent on killing themselves for who knows how long.” He paused choosing his words carefully, “Now that we are there we should put them on ships and let them find their own place in the galaxy. They have already ruined their home worlds. We own those planets now and have a right to exploit them as we please. The current government either does not care or does not understand how this will effect our species.”

The former Marine shifted uncomfortably in his chair as the other man continued.

“I believe its time for some representatives that will speak for the people not just for the current administrations interest. That's why I will be voting for Senator Harlow of the United Front.”

The image cuts again to a sharply dressed announcer “I am joined by Representative LaGrange of Eden, member of the Colonial Defense Committee and proponent of current operations on the Boskaran frontier.”

“Representative, how do you justify our continued operations against the Boskara when is seems, many citizens are questioning the logic behind such action.”

LaGrange smile was plastic as he answered, “It's obvious that it is our duty as a species to bring their troubled worlds under control while simultaneously ensuring the security of our trade routes and economy. Much like the Haakonish it is vital that we integrate the Boskara into our society. Anything less will insure generations of strife between our species.”

The announcer feigned a look of skepticism in the way only a member of the media can. “But what would you say to the concerns of your constituents? And what is your opinion about the United Front and its recent absorption of other political movements such as Primi Homines? And more importantly their growing numbers in the Senate?

A slight twinge of disgust and panic washed over the Representative, “It is well known that the United Front preaches a doctrine of human exceptionalism. These kinds of ideas are relics of our distant past and are simply byproducts of fear. Fear of the unknown, the fear of change, we must stick to our traditional values if the Confederation is to be a leader in the Galactic community.”

“On the topic of the Boskara do you have anything to say about the calling up of reserve Army units or the rumors of a massive influx of wounded service men and women to military hospitals in the core worlds?” The announcer knew this was his chance. “What do you have to say to their families?”

Sweat was forming on LaGrages brow, “I cannot comment on operations at this time.”

The committee chamber on the south side of the capital tower was unusually quiet considering the topics at hand. The chairman paused for a moment before continuing his briefing.

“We are sure of the translations. The refugees are adamant that they are from an ancient civilization known, roughly, as the Bipan Conglomerate. This does not, however, mean that this civilization consisted of the same species. According to research thus far this Conglomerate consisted of up to five difference species across thousands of light years with the refugees being known as the Shadar.” Chairman Cabral, a portly old veteran of the Senate, paused again; this time for effect and a much needed sip of water.

“The most recent data, as of yesterday, indicates that their home system may indeed been at or near what we know as the Umwatt system.”

Murmurs rippled through the deathly silent room.

“Please, everyone, please. This information cannot be confirmed for certain. Xenologists are having to fabricate new means to translate and decipher the Shadar's language and communication systems. As we have discussed before their technology also relies on their unique physiology in which series of hormones and pheromones are used to communicate certain syntax in information exchange. It's all very complicated of course.”

Cabral paused yet again rubbing his eyes. He was beginning to feel his age. “As you know the refugees have been allowed to settle in the Dintaal system with a portion on its way to the Umwatt system, for the sake a research.”

The holoscreen abruptly changed. “Moving on, our new neighbors to the south known as the Quameno Information Authority have contacted us concerning...”

Grand Admiral Attar made his way through the old EDF Officers club that he frequented many times as a cadet. The red light from the setting Mediterranean sun bathed the polished green marble of the large hall in strange shades. He was not his usual self during this visit as it is his custom to meet with any new officers in the “young guard” section of a club. The laughter that was audible from hundreds of feet outside the entrance was silenced by Attar’s presence. Ever since the battle of the Paakari Mine Platform 17 years earlier Attar had become something of a living legend. He was the first human officer to have real combat experience against a non human foe. At least, that is what the official history was written, the EDF had sealed records of the first interstellar combat that occurred in 2730. That too was a cross that Attar would have to bear. Two marine NCO’s, in dress blues decorated with several awards, snapped to attention as he entered the flag officers private suite. An old half circle bar booth, upholstered in faded red leather sat in the far corner of the room. Its cracked and unkempt exterior was drastically out of place but it was here by special request of Attar. Scrawled over the beat up, wobbly, black table was a record of a hundred nights with friends now gone. A rough sketch of VTS-7’s “Lucky Devils” horseshoe and clover insignia complete with a badly etched demon was emblazoned in the center of the table with the words “Best of luck to the class of 2751” and “Until we all come home”. Even in his foul mood this record of his past always brought a smirk to his face. Attar unclasped the ceremonial sword at his side as he sat down. The white of his Grand Admiral uniform stood out against his seating arrangements ensuring that he would not be left alone for long; Admiral Yamamoto, his second and command and good friend, was to join him shortly. Across the suite Attar could see the wait staff taking hurried glances at him, something that Attar had grown accustomed to.

The weight of the last few weeks suddenly bore down on Attar. His position as Chief of Staff for the Colonial Navy required him to attend sessions of defense counsel and upper house of the Senate. These bureaucrats have, seemingly, brought the Grand Admiral away from his duties aboard CTF-1 to inform him of their intent to fight any war themselves. No action is to be taken by any branch of the military unless it is voted on by the upper house or, in an emergency, a small group of defense counsel members. The reason for this, Attar bemused, was their fear of the military and its growing political power. This compounded by upstart groups like the United Front would be enough to make anyone paranoid. This decision, however, will cost lives and Attar knew it. More worrying, still, are the continuing reports of Boskaran riots on the frontier colonies and the discovery of several guerrilla movements on those planets with extensive weapons caches. The Colonial Military, with all its might, will not be able to stand against both a war against an alien colonial power and a insurrection at home. The sound of two pairs of heals clicking together snapped Attar's attention away from the center of the table. Admiral Yamamoto and his protege Captain Dobatchi stood at attention in their service dress blues. Attar did not even bother faking a smile, “Gentlemen, good evening” Yamamoto, however, never smiled, “Admiral, may we sit?”

Attar nodded a reply and shifted to one side. Both men opposite of him looked to be cut from the same cloth, although Dobatchi kept his youthful looks. There was a terrible rumor going around that the 41 year old Dobatchi was Yamamoto long lost son but it was all too unlikely, Yamamoto being 57 himself. “This proposal by the Senate, very unwise” Yamamoto said while adjusting his uniform, “Bureaucrats do not make good warriors.” “That hasn't stopped them from authorizing the second security force deployment to the Urd Wylan system. It is not the most prudent of actions considering the recent threats from the Boskara.” Attar shook his head in spite of the situation., “the navy still has much to do in preparation.” Yamamoto spoke in his characteristic measured voice, “Is any military ever ready? Regardless when the fight may take place, we will meet them where ever they stand.” Attar sighed deeply, “Granted but we cannot be off balance when the time comes.” He decided to change the subject. “I understand that you just completed your final courses at the CNCSS (Colonial Naval Command and Staff School) It won't be long until its Rear Admiral Dobatchi.” “Two years and I am eligible”, Dobatchi carried Yamamoto's stoney gaze, “Although I believe I will be staying with the 2nd.” Attar's laugh did not phase Dobatchi but eased his own tension, “be careful captain or you end up like me. I don't think I will ever leave the 1st.” The sound of approaching footsteps in the darkened suite broke the almost comfortable silence that followed. Standing before the table were two men, one of which Attar immediately recognized as Rear Admiral, now Vice Admiral, Kesky. He was broad but short with the build of an infantryman with salt and pepper hair, his gray eyes jovial as always. From Attar's personal combat experience with Kesky 10 years earlier it was generous to call him an adequate commander. A more precise description would be a kiss ass but that sort of honesty did not get anyone far. The other man, however, took a moment to recognize. He was young for his rank, late twenties at most, but had the look and honors of a combat vet. His decorations indicated that he had been wounded twice, served at every major engagement from Haako 1 to the battles on the northern Boskaran colonies, and still sported the wings of a combat pilot. Only Attar held more citations than Captain Trebulo. Yamamoto spoke before anyone else, “I have taken the liberty of inviting the new commanders of 4th and 3rd task forces. I thought it would be appropriate for this group to meet face to face.” Attar tried not to look annoyed. Kesky made his move first, “Grand Admiral, it is always and honor.” Attar nodded an acknowledgment to Kesky who looked slightly affronted. “Captain Trebulo, I did not know the Senate had given you a star, although your record does precede you.” “I was just informed today that I was billeted for the 3rd.” Trebulo replied smartly. “And what does your wife have to say about this change of station?” Attar asked genuinely curious. Trebulo smile was infectious, “That's why I sent her and the kids to Midway to get settled down. Setting up a new command is much less stressful.” “That it can be”, a knowing smile crept across the Grand Admirals face. “Since we are all here we might as well enjoy ourselves...” After several hours and a few drinks Yamamoto was telling a story about a young officer named Wilkon and the merits of the exploration corps. Attar managed to excuse himself with Trebulo, he wanted to know more about this man. From his impoverished beginnings on Earth, to his service in the Air Guard and then Colonial Navy as a fighter then CAS pilot. Trebulo described his decision to pursue a career as a ships commander as “where he belongs” and Attar was in agreement with him. Attar did, however, have his misgivings about certain aspects about his personality. Trebulo was overconfident in his abilities and had a ambitious edge to him. Somewhere in his eyes Attar could tell this man also had a capacity for violence. The makings of a good officer and a terrible force to be reckoned with.

0903 UST 2775.02.19 - CSS Columbia - CTF-3 'Spear' – Deep Space

a holographic image of Trebulo's wife and two daughters were waving at him , “Two months, I promise, and Sidney you be good or you will drive your mother crazy.” His two daughters then froliced off into the background. Kristen Trebulo gave her husband the most skeptical of looks. “You said two months two months ago.” “Well the truth is”, Hugo began, “ I can't tell you how much I enjoy being air sealed in with 3,000 other pissed off sailors and marines.” “You were always the strange one” He shrugged, “Guilty” “Listen, I've thought about what we have discussed and after this shakedown we will be back at Midway for nearly 6 months. After that I will look at getting the family in-fleet accommodations. I don't like the idea but we will save on holofeed charges.” A cloud passed over the Trebulo residence on Midway darkening the holofeed. Kristen's smile was the brightest thing in the feed. “We're really going to make this work”, she said. Hugo sighed, “Yeah...Yeah I think so” The feed was abruptly cut by three blinking red letters.

Colonial Army and Air Force liaisons rushed in and out of the ferrocrete fuel bunker that had been taken over as temporary CGSCC HQ. The deafening roar of battle echoed through the halls, punctuated by the heavy thumps of indirect fire landing on the bunker roof above. The screams and moans of the wounded, both military and civilian alike, added to the inhuman cacophony enveloping Stan Callosk, colonial governor of Midway. Blood and sand mixed on the floor, for hours wounded and dying were moved into the same space as the command center, military and civilian doctors were applying their grizzly trade only meters from Callosk. The lack of resupply forced surgeons to rely on ancient techniques to save lives. On the screens in front of him a mass of humanity surged to the open doors of a waiting ore freighter that was pressed into service. Indirect fire was raining down among the crowd but those poor souls kept pressing forward like maddened animals. It took Callosk all he could not to vomit in disgust at the scene; he could feel himself reaching the breaking point. No one knows how or where the populations of Boskara got their weapons, some reports indicated they were using their own shard type weapons while other transmissions from the perimeter tell about encountering colonial small arms; undoubtedly taken from the Midway Guard Base “Struckker” that was overrun two days ago. Worst of all, no one can estimate how many civilians were left behind when the colonies' capital fell. Estimates range into the tens of millions. Some of those civilians who did make their way through the lines reported of mass killings and, shockingly, consumption of those unlucky enough to be taken captive. Callosk tried not to think about that. He was racked again by stinging guilt, this was entirely his fault; he had been a proponent of integration of the Boskara in the core worlds and now his rhetoric doomed millions. A strong hand spun him away from the carnage on the monitor screens.

A major in the Midway Guard stood before him in tattered and bloodied dress greens. The woman looked as if she hadn't slept in a week. A blood soaked bandage covered the stump where her left hand used to be which was haphazardly tucked into a sling around her neck, “Governor Callosk, the perimeter has been breached a kilometer from here. Our orders are to get you and the rest of your officials on the next transport.”

Callosk st at the woman slack jawed. Why now, when there were so many more civilians to evacuate. How could he live with himself? The world was suddenly silent, Callosk wanted to protest but the words would not come. The major shook her head while saying something and motioned to a pair of guardsmen. The soldiers had to physically remove him from the room; Callosk was still overcome with a horrible emptiness.

“Why can't I move?”, Callosk internalized as he was dragged along the darkened hallway. He still could not hear but the smell of blood and ozone filled his head. “This isn't happening.”

A member of his six man security detail stopped before the bunker door, screamed something about “move fast” and “don't ****ing stop” in his face before slapping a helmet on Callosks head. “This is insane, this is a dream, it must be.” The man was cut down by an explosion outside as the door opened. Callosk felt his legs moving faster as he was pushed outside the door.

Outside of the bunker the air was alive with the beehive sound of shrapnel. The security detail pushed, kicked, and butt stocked their way through the crowd. Callosk turned to look behind him just as a guardsman escorting him shot a civilian that was clinging to another soldier. “Why?”, Callosk thought as he retched, “We are supposed to be saving them.”

The group was only one hundred meters from the open doors of the ore fighter. Ahead of them, where moments ago, stood a mother and her two daughters; there was a blinding flash. Time dilated to a crawl as the shrapnel from the explosion ripped through Callosks chest and shoulders. For the first time since he was told to evacuate Callosk heard sound in the form of intense ringing. Around him the remaining members of his protection detail were doubled over and motionless. His gaze returned to the place where the women and two children once stood. One of the children was standing bawling incoherently and her mother was digging furiously in the rubble where the crowd once stood, she was badly wounded. She was screaming as Callosk sat there in a daze and began to pull out her hair.

“No”, he said out loud, “No more, I don't care!”

Callosk pushed himself up, his clothes heavy with blood, and began running toward the woman. Callosk grabbed the young girl with his left arm as he passed her, the woman with his right. “We're getting out of here alive, I don't care!”

The black haired woman was biting and scratching him as they ran towards the ore freighter which was beginning its accent. No time. Callosk threw the girl in his left arm through the door to the waiting arms of a crewman. He took another step over a ruined Kaiden female and threw the woman at least ten meters into the rapidly ascending ship before collapsing to his knees. Callosk looked down to his blood soaked uniform and then back up to the woman who was now staring wide eyed at him.

“At least I could save you.”, Callosk began to smile. Somewhere behind the freighter a light ten thousand times brighter than Horecani Prime itself enveloped first the ship then Callosk. He had the sensation of floating for the briefest of moments and then nothing. The one hundred megaton anti matter bomb that was detonated above the evacuation hub spared nothing and no one.

Speaker of the Senate Claire Raque walked swiftly passed the barricades and armed guards patrolling around the shuttle entrance. In the distance the faint sounds of an angry mob could be heard echoing through the white and blue marble halls of the Colonial Government Complex. As she passed the large central hall of the Senate wing the gold seal of the Confederation showed scuff marks and graffiti left by the sit-in 'United Front' protesters that were removed only minutes ago. In bright crimson paint the word “Traitors” was still drying on the grand seal. The lift ride to the Senate chambers reviled more, hundreds of thousands of protesters and counter protesters turned the streets below into a rivers of chaos. To call the last two months an unmitigated disaster would be gross understatement. Several colonies had populations of Boskara that have revolted with hundreds of millions of human civilians being listed as missing or killed. Several centers of trade in the north were lost with all human government officials and families killed in the ensuing violence. Koq was the most effected out of all of these planets as the governmental urban zone was nulled (term for anti-matter bomb) out of existence. The last moments of Koq played out live, and was preserved for the public at large, over hacked channels of the holonet station on that planet. After the fires of Koq the civilian population, already reeling for the effects of the loss of Midway, took to the streets and government centers on the remaining colonies. These people did not have a coherent voice as opinions ranged from calling for an immediate retaliatory strike with nuclear or anti-matter weapons on the effected planets to the toppling of the Confederate government. The most shocking, and difficult to address, event in the past month was the loss of Midway; first to the Boskara after Aelmere City was nulled and then to the Kaiden under “Special Administrative Control”. Raque and the rest of the Senate knew it was a power grab disguised as a humanitarian mission. Although the Kaiden have allowed government agencies, civilian aid groups, and military units to assist in controlling the remaining population and aid or recovery efforts, any attempt to negotiate the transfer of control over the system has been killed in its cradle by the Kaiden. Sooner or later the excuse of an 'extraordinary security situation' will no longer shield the Oligarchy from the consequences.

“Speaker, have you been listening?”, Claire’s aide held the lift door as they departed.

Claire paused for a moment embarrassed that she had missed a conversation, “I'm sorry please continue.” The entourage of aides and body guards continued through the arches of the Senate chamber. The words 'For the greater good' were emblazoned at the top.

“...as I was saying”, Claire's aide began cautiously, “This morning’s proceedings include discussions on military preparedness with Grand Admiral Attar and the joint chiefs as well as-.” The aide stopped short of finishing his sentence.

“Andrew, I have seen the schedule for today.”, Claire continued to her seat next to the consul, Alfonso Rivera, leaving Andrew visibly flustered. She had been vetted within the last few months by several members of the Senate to take over from Alfonso in the next election cycle. Those who did the vetting pointed to her strong leadership of the Senate during her time as speaker and her support from the moderates both in the government and amongst the citizens of the Confederation. Claire also had to be honest with herself, she wanted that seat. Her entire political career was centered on becoming Consul and with a half-witted yes-man like Rivera in the seat the election was already decided. The Confederation would not survive another five years of 'leadership' from the current consul.

The lights dimmed in the chamber except for those over the seats reserved for the representatives of Koq, Boskar, and of course Midway. The morning’s business continued, as usual, with Attar concentrating less on assisting the Senate on military decisions and more in pressing for a change to the war powers act that would allow the military to act freely. Attar and Raque had grown to respect each other over the past few months and although she had full faith and confidence in Attar he would never have his wish granted. Like Claire, most of the Senate members agreed that giving power to the military could be dangerous at this time. It only took one rouge task force commander to dissolve what little confidence the electorate had in the Confederation. The government was barely holding on as it was. Claire was certain that the only reason every member in the chamber had not lost their jobs was the steely resolve of a good portion of the population to wipe any trace of the Boskara from the galaxy. She found it hard to disagree with them. Claire had to control her disgust when the always fiery senator from Eden, Galen Yost, made the case again to expel all non-human races from the core worlds and detain any boskaran as a war criminal. Being part of the United Front and from Eden had afforded Yost several powerful friends but again his motion yielded to more rational minds. When Claire becomes Consul she would need to watch Yost and his party compatriots carefully. More importantly the notion of deporting sentient races to other parts of the galaxy would be swiftly curtailed. Nothing is more dangerous than a mob that fears for its existence. If only the founders could see the government now.

The bomb exploded on the fifty-sixth floor of the CGC halfway through the discussion on how to handle the new influx of thirty million recruits. Claire barely had time to notice the building shudder before her security detail swiftly moved her down the emergency lift to the shuttle bay. Despite repeated efforts to find out what exactly was going on no one on her team could say anything other than 'we need to get you to safety'. The detail covered the ramp to the shuttle as she was strapped into her seat. The pilot shouted something about hold on before the ship rocketed away from the landing pad and the g forces she experienced caused her almost to black out. Claire could tell something was horribly wrong when the ship lurched upward violently paired with a bone jarring blast from the rear of the craft. The nose dive that followed confirmed her fear.

Claire awoke in the Senate chamber seated as consul. Over the next few weeks she presided over the total victory over the Boskara and the reunification of the colonies. She lingered in that coma induced fantasy for several days before succumbing to her injuries.

Lieutenant Urban Perez loaded a fresh magazine into his weapon as he stepped over a still squirming Boskaran male. The lenses behind its compound eyes were clearly following his movements when his SSLO (Spaceborne Support Liaison Officer) delivered the coup de grace to the nerve center of the fallen enemy. The SSLO was a “Black Water Navy” lieutenant named Veronica Bailey. Perez had his doubts when she joined his platoon a month ago before planet fall but she had shown that she was more than capable of holding her own in a fight. Perez was following his second squad, which had been reduced from twelve members to seven, into their lane of responsibility. In that lane stood several Boskaran structures sprawling for several kilometers, a difficult task for an under strength squad. The buildings were nick named “shrooms” for both their mushroom like appearance and, half-jokingly, their tenancy to make a soldier lose their mind. The buildings themselves are not tall, only a few stories, with the real infrastructure existing below ground. It can take several hours or days to clear out the myriad of rooms and halls below. Burkaan was decidedly and infantryman’s fight trough and trough. No armor could safely be brought to bear in the close quarter environment of a Boskaran cityscape. Using indirect fire or spaceborne fire support only turned a shroom filled with shrieking Boskaran berserkers into a pile of rubble that had to be cleared of very agitated shrieking Boskaran berserkers. Perez couldn't decide if it was an asset or a horrible tragedy that most of these same buildings were cleared decades earlier. At least, this time, the infantry didn't have to worry about corrosive gas as well. Suddenly the platoon net lit up with frantic messages from fourth squad which was clearing rooms a level above but were suddenly silenced. Urban singled for another stop. Grayndler, the squad’s last remaining assault man, knelt carefully besides the entrance to the next chamber. His battle armor was outfitted with a bulky upgrade known simply as an ‘Armor Pak’.

This upgrade consists of enhanced composite armor attachments placed over the existing battle armor as well as thin square centimeter scale plates of reactive armor over the entire suit. The reactive armor was designed to work with the suit’s onboard computer to detect the changes of heat and pressure from a Boskaran shard-type weapon. Upon sensing the incoming projectile, the reactive armor plate would detonate destroying the shard. Or, at least, that’s how it worked in theory. There was only one layer of reactive scale and the Boskara had the tendency to deplete an entire shard rod into a soldier before charging. This lead to most of the scales being depleted at first contact and the clever moniker ‘rayet pak’s’ after the wolf-rayet star classification. Interestingly enough the paks were supposed to be issued only to Marines, Drop infantry, and Special Forces. Rumor has it that the supply officer knew a guy that knew a guy, the same old story.

Perez used his battle armor’s neural interface to bring up Grayndler’s helmet cam and pin it to his HUD. The dark hallway ahead was suddenly illuminated as Graydler toggled his low light filter from white hot to enhance true color. Onboard motion sensors began to detect vibrations attributed to the movement of Boskarans from every approach. Perez then keyed a short written message with the neural interface to his squad 'No light, no sound, possible contacts.' The squad leader, a Sargent Petralia from the southern end of Earth's Balkan Peninsula, began to move his squad into a 360 formation as every helmet light in a chamber went off. The pitch black of the room was slowly lit by their helmets auto light filter.

Every soldier was motionless waiting for the inevitable storm. Perez was attempting to contact fourth squad when the ceiling above the group exploded into razor sharp chunks of volcanic rock. He was temporary blinded by the helmets inability to compensate for the bright flash and his head was racked with pain as the dampeners in the helmet compensated for the lethal pressure change. It took a moment for Perez to recover and notice the long buzzing sound coming from his HUD indicating that one of his squad member's heart stopped, a feature that was only available to medics and leadership. As his onboard computer finished its reboot process Perez saw that Boskaran soldiers were already on top of a few members of his squad. As he swung his battle rifle into engage a large boskaran that was attempting relieve Bailey of her right arm Perez himself was tackled to the ground by a red berserker. The armored boskaran pressed the muzzle of its shard rifle into Perez's chest and depressed the pressure plate trigger. Time slowed down as the visible firing mechanism was released and shaved off a few slugs of stolzite alloy which were then propelled into his battle armor before harmlessly reaching the end of its ammunition. One of the three shards was able to penetrate. A white hot burning sensation was quickly relieved by the re-pressurization of his suit and the intravenous introduction of pain revelers.

The boskaran wasted no time trying to reload his weapon but was interrupted by wicked right cross from Perez. The red berserker was more taken aback by Perez’s action than by the blow itself but the pause did allow Perez to plunge his combat knife between the Sclerite plates of its thorax. Perez used his suits power exoskeleton to break the blade off at the hilt, roll away, and retrieve his battle rifle. Perez fired a burst at the charging berserker just has his rifle leveled. The explosive rounds left ragged holes in the creature, spraying gray-green hemolymph on the walls a floor which quickly solidified in the heat of the atmosphere. Wounded and enraged the berserker fell on Perez again. He had just enough time to activate the spring loaded bayonet on his rifle and brace himself. The berserker bent the battle rifle as it speared itself. Perez stepped violently to his left rear using the inertia of the boskaran and the power exoskeleton to fling his enemy to the ground. The rifle shattered from the force.

At this point Perez was in adrenaline induced frenzy and flung himself on his enemy. He was clawing at the berserker’s neck joint when its two lower limbs penetrated the armor on his back piercing the flesh underneath. Perez howled in pain as he redoubled his efforts at decapitating the insect. The Boskaran then went on the offensive, using its two upper limbs to try and crush Perez’s head. Perez knew that he only had moments in which to act, the pressure on his head was incredible and a crack had formed on the helmets ferroglass HUD. The ragged hole on the berserker’s thorax offered an opportunity to the wounded soldier. He plunged hands deep into the wound and began to pull on the remaining sclerite chest exoskeleton. Servos ground and squealed as they applied superhuman strength. At first the chest cavity gave slowly but then with a final crack the thorax exoskeleton separated from the rest of the alien’s body. The sight of congealing hymolyph made Perez gag and reminded him of fresh steamed lobster. The berserker loosened his grip and rolled into a death curl as it was cooked from the inside.

Any celebration was cut short as another boskaran tackled him into the steaming corpse just as he got to his feet. His attacker was clawing at his already wounded back trying to expose Perez to the poison inferno of the planet’s atmosphere. The pain and fear was becoming overwhelming. He repositioned his head under the pressure of his attacker just in time to see one of his squad members being torn apart by two assailants. Perez screamed for help but his comms package had been ripped apart and his vocalizer on his helmet was damaged. He began to feel ribs crack as his battle armor tried in vain to deliver anesthetic from empty vials. Just as his vision was turning red a dark figure plunged its bayonet into the neck of the boskara attacking him and squeezed the trigger delivering a three round burst to its head splintering exoskeleton and hemolymph across the far wall. Perez gingerly rolled over to see Bailey offering her hand.

It took several minutes to tend to the wounded and account for the dead, three KIA four WIA. Perez was able to patch his comms through Baileys and sent a STAR (Situation Terrain Ammunition Replacements) report to his company commander, Captain Methusha. It only took her seconds to respond over the squad net.

“Outstanding job on clearing the shroom, report back to the FOB. Rearm, reequip, reinforce. We need you supporting second platoon clearing the rest of your lane in two hours.”

Perez didn't need to see their faces to know what they were thinking. Graydlers pock marked battle armor visibly slumped at the news. Perez look a look at one of his soldiers shattered body. The armor had the unit crest wreathed by the motto.

Victoria snapped her S-56 Rapier 180 degrees to engage her target, the blood rushed to through her body only to be stopped by the intricate air bladders and tourniquets in her flight suit. A short burst from her auto cannons turned the drone into shrapnel. As she maneuvered her fighter away from the deadly shower of metal Jupiter and Europa blurred and flashed in front of the fighter’s canopy. Other Rapiers in her flight danced in intricate circles around their respective target drones, stray shots being fired wildly. MQ-24 drones, relics of the original space borne drone program, were more nimble than their human piloted counterparts. After the Kaiden shared their knowledge about drone technology it became glaringly apparent how easily it was to disrupt the control interfaces remotely. The Navy had to cancel further investment in drone technology for CAG's and move back to the tried and true manned spacecraft for combat roles.

Small jets of ionized gas erupted from the nose of her craft as the fly-by-wire system pushed her into dive. Each member of the flight acknowledged in turn and formed on flight. The rest of Jester flight was already reformed on front of Victoria and they sped towards her, an empty space was left on the right side of formation. Behind harlequin flight was mopping up the rest of the target drones. As she called shackle to her flight lead Victoria took a brief moment to appreciate the immensity of the Red Nova training exercise that was swirling around her. Civilian traffic had been restricted around Europa to make room for the hundreds of ships. Bursts of light lit up the void between her and Jupiter as hundreds of pilots engaged drones of all sizes and makes. Against her ferroglass HUD six hulks, which had been towed into place as targets, were marked as hostile capital ships. A flight of STB-4N torpedo bombers lumbered into view vectoring towards their targets. As Jester flight closed the distance the gold and black emblem on their atmospheric wings announced they were part of VTB-28 ‘Heavens Hammers”, an active duty formation.

A gruff voice crackled over the net, “Jester flight, this is Sledge flight lead, committed vector 5-6 Zodiac point 9-8, LOKI clean.” You could almost see the boredom oozing through the coms. For Victoria and her group this exercise was the final test before graduation and joining the fleet. Even after the twenty-four training missions prior she still got a rush from piloting her craft. Those vets, however, probably despised the routine nature of the exercise.

“Sledge lead, Jester lead, holding hands. Break. Specter control, this is Jester lead, Bogey Dope.” At the same time the transmission was sent to the SE-5 ‘Geist’ SWACs Victoria’s on board LOKI picked up the bogeys that were descending on the formation.

“Jester lead, be advised, tally six bandits, right two o’clock high. 9 clicks closing your pos.” Things began moving quickly. Jester lead, the instructor, split the flight in half and sent six fighters to engage the incoming drones. The rest of the flight proceeded onward to the quickly approaching hulks. Behind and above the rest of Jester flight was engaged. Victoria took a few precious seconds to look at the score, four to three, their favor with one bandit closing on the formation. Things were about to get interesting.

“Jester flight, Sledge lead, LOKI spike, hard lock, going defensive.” The vet broke from brevity. “Multiple spikes, missile boat, if you don’t get him we’re fragged.” Urgency finally crept into his voice. Suddenly a long tone burst into Victoria’s ears followed by a low warbling that increased in pitch and frequency. A slightly red tent covered her HUD as the words MISSLE blinked quickly in front of her eyes. Her LOKI indicated that twelve missiles were inbound from the drone which was quickly dispatched by the two remaining detached Jesters. Three of the missiles were locked on to her craft. They were 7km out and closing fast.

Someone called over the net between the frantic calls of Sledge flight “Jester five notch left!” She was already halfway through the maneuver.

Small pyrotechnics burst all over the ship as LOKI disrupting nano particles were released into the void. The on board Electronic Countermeasure system began jamming the warhead of one of the missiles with no effect. G forces were pulling her hard in different directions as Victoria tried to lose the missiles that were tracking her from less than 1 km. The LOKI screen burst into static as one of the warheads detonated in the nano particle cloud. She pulled back on the stick for half a second then went into a spiraling dive as the other two missiles overshot her craft and began a turn to reengage. Victoria refined the ECS signal to a 180* arc to the aft of her bird in an attempt to jam the missile’s warhead. This meant that she had to fly in a somewhat straight line for an unbearable few seconds that it took for the ECS system to work. The warbling in her headset came to a steady tone as the missile closed within 200 meters. As the missile closed within detonation range the ECS system made a series of popping sounds with the steady grinding sound of an electric arc. At 50 meters she threw the Rapier into a hard right and watched as a missile, a quarter of the length of her craft, sailed harmlessly by; the ECS worked. Alarmingly, her viewport turned red again as the second missile reacquired a lock and was less than a klick out. In desperation Victoria flipped her craft vertically on its axis and prepared to engage the missile with guns. The missile closed another 400 meters in a second. Clusters of red and orange bolts peppered the blackness ahead as her cockpit shook in eerie silence. Her target dissolved into a mass of metal as her maxos cannons made short work of missile’s thin skin. She tried in vain to turn her craft away but the shields caught most of the debris. Time to get back in the fight.

As she turned toward the bomber formation several of sledge flights torpedo bombers were adrift, disabled from the training missile strikes. Ahead the bomber formation was beginning to take long range anti-spacecraft point defense artillery (ASA) fire. Simulated HE-FRAG rounds burst among the formation causing each bomber to take its own defensive maneuvers. Individual ships shields lit up blue and red from a distance.

Victoria knew exactly what that meant. Another flight of drones was hiding in the hulks that were quickly approaching. Two smaller ships to the left of their target, a super heavy ore freighter, were now balls of rapidly expanding debris. The other flights must have already taken out their targets. Meters counted down quickly on her HUD as the IP (Initial Point) flew past as a yellow star in her helmets AR (Augmented Reality) display. Ahead and to the left a new furball erupted only 5 clicks away, red and blue bolts stitched their way through the blackness. At 2 km medium range point defense weapons began intensifying their fire. The bombers had the shields to take such abuse but the remains of Jester flight had to alter course to avoid the hail of projectiles. Blue and green FLAK bursts peppered Sledge flight with harmless simulated fragments. The scene below was almost beautiful if it were not for the context. Victoria in knew that in a real fight their trip would not be so smooth.

A, now familiar, voice broke over the chatter,“Sledge flight, ripple those pigs, standby to reengage.”

Almost simultaneously the eight remaining bombers released their first salvo of torpedoes, two per bomber. The ASA fire picked up dramatically with short range point defense weapons painting ribbons of blue and purple at the approaching torpedoes. A bomber burst into simulated fragments in Victoria's AR HUD as a point defense weapon nailed its intended target. The realism of the simulated carnage took her aback for the briefest of moments. She figured that it was doing its intended job. The small group of fighters and bombers were now well within the target hulks' formation. Somewhere, very close, there were bandits ready to pounce.

“Sledge flight, ripple and break left and egres-”, Sledge leaders transmission was cut short by two stealth drones that dove trough the formation turning two bombers, including the leaders into scrap. As a testament to their experience, sledge flight broke formation and egressed in an orderly fashion.

“Jester five and eight, engage those bandits”

Victoria snapped her ship into a near 90* turn putting its nose into a lead pursuit behind one of the drones. It's flight became very erratic which forced her to move into a lag pursuit at a further distance. Stars, planets, and star craft turned her HUD into multicolored blur as she stayed on the tail of the drone. Twice the drone attempted a direct reversal which was deftly countered. A third attempt by the drone to get behind Victoria was its undoing, the counter thrust bled off just enough speed to give her lead pursuit for a few seconds. That’s all she needed. The red cannon rounds shattered the thin plasma shielding of the drone buckling its spindly airframe and sending it tumbling end over end to slam into piece of hulk debris.

“Jester five, get this bugger off me!”, a panicked voice said in an interesting accent.

“Jester eight, vector 1-3-6 Zodiac point 9-5, drag that bandit to me.” The other pilot did as he was told and headed straight for Victoria. The distance was closed at blinding speed. Jester eight buzzed past at less than five meters head on. It only took a handful of rounds to reduce the drone to twisted metal.

“Take my wing eight; we're not out of the fight yet.”

Victoria's LOKI indicated that there were six drones closing in the rest of the flight as they attempted to cover the retreating bombers. A quick check showed that she still had twelve Active Reengagement High Maneuverability missiles (ARHM) at her disposal. It was risky but worth a try.

“Jester lead, Jester five, go defensive, arrowshot.” If there was any protest from her flight leader he did not make it vocal, the remaining flight members began making a concerted effort to distant themselves from each other, even if that meant taking a few hits to their shields.

Victoria steadied her fighter while simultaneously syncing her missiles to the SWAC's tactical suite. Twelve missiles locked on their receptive targets. A chorus of tones filled her head as she squeezed the trigger.

“Jester five, Arrow one!”

Twelve, half meter long missiles, left their bays on the structure of her fighter and raced away; their ion engines flickering and dancing like firefly’s against a night sky. Thrusters fired on each missile as they adjusted their trajectory and speed making seemingly impossible turns. Victoria tapped nervously on the throttle as the first missiles detonated a meter from their respective targets. Large clouds of splintered metal and superheated gas dotted the star scape. Between her and Jester eight their ARHM missiles dispatched all but two of the drones. As she began pursuit of one of the remaining drones a blinding light filled her cockpit as the surviving torpedoes from sledge flight pierced through the old freighters hull. Hit after successive hit unleashed a hurricane of loose metal and debris into the furball. Victoria’s shields flared bright shades of blue as bits of freighter vaporized or were deflected. Frantic calls from the remainder of Jester flight came blaring through the headset. Their flight had wandered too close to the impact zone and were now paying for it. Someone screwed up.

“Jester flight, break contact, bug out now!” the flight leader had an urgency to his voice that none of the trainees had ever heard before.

Amongst the storm of metal a single drone somehow continued to pursue the flight leader. Victoria knew immediacy that if the flight leader was disabled his fighter would surely be destroyed.

The drone pursuing Jester lead had lost its shields and was taking damage from debris while still making hits. Jester lead could not maneuver safely as larger pieces of the freighter were now careening through the battle space. Victoria made a decision and began to pursue the pair of ships, dodging large chunks of ship along the way. The plasma shielding was beginning to fail as she popped up vertically over a house sized piece of debris.

“Five, bug out now! That’s an order!”

There was no way that was happening.

“Lead break left and climb on my mark” The drone zipped in and out of her AR HUDs gun path. Just a second more.

“Mark”

Jester lead broke left and pulled into a vertical climb as bolts from Victoria’s Rapier relieved the drone of its aft structure. Before she could celebrate the drone overcorrected with its maneuvering thrusters. Victoria could only watch in horror as the drone slammed into her craft. She was pinned to the starboard wall as she went into an uncontrolled spin. Master alarms drowned out the sound of her panicked breaths. Before she could declare an emergency a piece of freighter collided with her ship.

When she awoke a week later in a military hospital on Europa her Jester flight lead, Josep “Pescidon” Pan was at her bedside. On the pillow beside her lay a series of commendation medals along with her Colonial Navy Aviator’s Badge and the Colonial Navy Dedication Medal for non-combat related heroism.

Pan leaned over her, a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

“What you did was stupid and I’m surprised they didn't ground you permanently. Instead they gave you medals. If you, ever, do something like that in combat you may end up killing someone. Remember, we are in a shooting war now. Keep that in mind.” He laid a rectangular piece of QNP by her unbroken arm.

Victoria gingerly looked at the glowing letters on the paper. ‘Upon graduation you are order to ACTIVE DUTY in the grade of rank shown above. Report to Colonial Task Force 3 “Spear”, VFA – 301 <SS> “Snake Eyes” no later than…’ Tears filled her eyes as she looked up at Pan. He managed a smile.

The light from Umwatt 4's forest moon Esleahu bathed Vice Admiral Hugo Trebulo in melancholy shades of blue as he sat on his bed. Almost a year to the day from the rebellion on midway and still he had the same tortured nightmare that kept him awake long into the night. It always started the same, the barren wasteland of Midway littered with the bones of those who perished at the evacuation hub. He would chase his daughter Sidney through the ruined corpses until she reached a ship that was leaving the planets surface. It always ended the same. She would turn, tears in her eyes, and scream at him to stop it. He would hug her and try to comfort her, he would tell her that everything was okay and that they would get out. And every time she would turn to dust in his arms.

Hugo hadn't even been able to pay his respects in person, Midway had been under Kaiden control since the first anti-matter bomb went off. Now that the Alliance was broken with the Kaiden no citizen of the Confederation was allowed on the surface. September of the previous year the Kaiden declared an immediate ceasefire with the Boskara, turned back their 15th Strike Force, and took most of the Kaiden military volunteers with them. No reason was given. No answers. Hugo could never find answers. A deep cold rage began to fill him when his door chimed. Commander Lohengrin making his morning report.

“Come”

The door slid aside noiselessly as the 27 year old Commander and Flag aide walked confidentially into the room, as always, clothed in elegant dress blacks. Lohengrin's brother came up with Trebulo in the boarding school that they were unlucky enough to be forced into. Promises were made and kept long ago to make more of themselves than what they began as. Trebulo kept those promises long after Lohengrin's brother passed and a lasting friendship had formed.

“Sir, the morning report”

Trebulo did not take his gaze away from the moon and sat in silence as Lohengrin continued.

“The new shipment of S-56 Super Rapiers have been delivered to the fleet as well as, a new complement of replacements.”

The admiral did not take his gaze away from the Starfield. The melancholy that struck him a few weeks ago had taken everything from him. He had lost his family again. In the months following the attack the Admiral had a drive that he had never felt in his life. A demonic fervor had taken him since he heard the news and those under his command had taken the brunt of his grief. He was hell-bent on making his command ready for war and push them over the red line. News of this reached the defense committee back on earth and several members of Congress were of the opinion that Trebulo was unfit for command. It is rumored that Attar himself had stepped in to block his transfer to reserve Fleet headquarters on Eden. It did not come without cost, the third task force was to remain in orbit around Umwatt. Somewhere along the way his anger turned into a viscous depression that he could not climb out of.

“Admiral?”, Lohengrin had uncharacteristiclly sour face. Trebulo failed to notice or even care. “I asked if you will be attending the funerals for the pilots killed in last weeks training accident?”

Lohengrin, known as a steady and cautious man, began to show signs of visible annoyance. Weeks of seeing his friend in this state had taken it's toll. Worse, it began to take a toll on those who served with him.

“No, I will not be attending. You may leave Commander.”, Trebulo said through clenched teeth.

Lohengrin stood in abject disgust.

“Sir, with all due respect, this is unacceptable.”, Lohengrin felt himself loosing control. “Those men deserve better and whats more you are better then this.”

A deafening silence fell over the room.

Lohengrin exploded, “Sitting here doing nothing will not help you bring them back.”

Trebulo shot a stare at Lohengrin that was meant to kill as he got to his feet and closed distance with his friend. “How dare you-”

“No Sir, how dare you!”

The Admiral took Lohengrin by the collar and spat insults into his face only to be interrupted.

“Hugo, goddammit, this fleet- this Navy needs you. If you want to prevent another Midway you have to square yourself away. What you decide to do, right now, can save another billion fathers from the same torment. If not for them then for our species.” Their faces were only inches away.

Something broke within Trebulo and from that moment until the day he died he would be a changed man. Nothing could take this away. A clarity had washed over him and all of this emotions were focused on one goal. He backed away from his friend and slumped on his rack. Tears burned at the corners of his eyes. Another long silence passed.